For the Night is Long and the Silence Deep
by SuperSamandDean
Summary: AU - set in skag trendy's "Hunter of the Shadows" Verse. On Sam's 17th birthday he finds himself kidnapped by a man very much interested in all things Supernatural and he has rather unpleasant plans for the youngest Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note: This story is set in the "Hunter of the Shadows" Universe as created by skag trendy. If you haven't read it yet then you really should, it's an AWESOME story! **_

_**Anyway, on to this story and I hope you like it!**_

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It shouldn't have ended the way it did.

It was his 17th birthday, Sam hadn't been nearly killed in several months, and Dean and Tobius wanted to celebrate.

So they'd gone out.

For Dean, a celebration probably would have involved hitting a bunch of bars and hitting on a bunch of women.

For Tobius it probably would have been wine tasting, maybe the opera or theatre, and so forth.

But this was Sam's day and Dean, of late; had gotten this weird notion that, as Sam's father, it was up to him to give Sam everything John never had.

Which is how they ended up going to Disneyworld.

Maybe not exactly what Sam would have picked but Dean was taking his new idea seriously and that meant beginning at the beginning.

Thank God Sam had managed to convince him that, no, he really didn't need to know how to ride a bike and he certainly didn't need Dean trying to teach him.

He wasn't able to talk him out of Disneyworld though so they went and it wasn't like Sam hadn't spent a large portion of his childhood dreaming of a location dubbed "the happiest place on Earth" and imagining just what it could be that warranted it being given that title.

His imagination, it turned out, was a lot better than the reality but then that was true of most things.

In the end it was the three of them and it was fun and that was what mattered.

They went on every single ride multiple times and ate until, were they human, they might very well have exploded on the spot.

Being a werewolf definitely had its perks.

At one point during the day Sam thought he noticed a dark figure by one of the rides staring at him. Not unusual in and of itself, pheromones and all that after all, but for some reason the sight gave him an odd chill as though a cloud had just passed over the sun. The man was there one second and gone the next and Sam didn't say anything for fear of ruining the day. Dean was having a good time, oddly enough, and after all Sam was simply being paranoid. What possible danger could there freaking be in Disneyworld of all places?

God, how he'd wish later he could have that one moment back. If he'd known he could have just grabbed Dean and Tobius and run as fast and as far as he could.

But, instead, he cheerfully went back to the motel at the end of the day and when Dean commented about going to a bar he graciously gave in because Dean had put up with the overwhelming sap during the day even to the point of going on "It's a Small World" six times.

Sam actually did that one just to piss him off but it sorta backfired as by the time it was over he was seriously considering going back after closing and salting and burning the thing.

So, anyway, Dean took off like a bat out of you know where and it was only a while later that Sam waved Tobius out as well because, after all, he'd had to sit through "It's a Small World" as well.

After they both left Sam grabbed a book he'd brought along and settled in to read.

He'd only just started, and really began to get engrossed in the storyline, when a loud pounding sounded at the door. Sam jumped and nearly dropped the book as his head snapped up. Now that he was actually paying attention he could easily smell the two humans on the other side.

Dean would not be pleased with his failure to observe.

The pounding continued and Sam sighed and got up. No doubt some idiots had gotten themselves drunk and stumbled to the wrong room. Since they were just a couple of humans he figured he'd open the door and shoo them away before returning to his book. After all what kind of attacker would announce their presence and, even if that was what they were, what possible threat could a couple of humans really be against a werewolf?

Another perk.

Also one of the single biggest mistakes he would probably ever make.

As the lock released and his hand turned the knob the smell outside suddenly changed. Sam had about one second of realization that he couldn't smell alcohol but could smell adrenaline and then the door was being shoved open and he was flying backward.

He hit the ground hard and looked up to see no less than six men standing over him.

Six.

And he could only smell two of them.

Son of a……since when did vampires play with their food?

Scrambling backwards, Sam lashed out with a foot as one of the men reached for him and then bolted toward the window. He could feel the men behind him lunging for him but he never hesitated. Glass shattered as he flung himself through the window and then he was on the ground and taking off.

_DEAN!!!!!_

He had no idea if his brother was close enough to hear his mental cry and never got a chance to hear any kind of response as red hot agony ripped through his lower calf and he fell to the ground with a scream. Looking down he was horrified to see a silver quarrel that had gone completely through his leg. He tried to grab it to rip out but the metal scorched his hands and already he could feel the paralysis winding its way through his body.

He fell back and was only able to offer weak struggles to the arms grabbing him and forcing him to his feet. He bit back another scream as weight was put on the leg but the arms held him as his own hands were forced behind him and heavy metal shackles locked over them.

Footsteps sounded and a tall man moved in front of him. The man was tall with dark hair and a beard and mustache framing an angular face. He wore heavy work boots, jeans and a close fitting shirt with a long black coat. Reaching out he calmly grabbed Sam's face and turned his head to the side, easily keeping his grip when Sam weakly tried to pull back.

"He'll work out well," the man stepped back and, as he turned, Sam suddenly realized he was the same guy from Disneyworld.

The one he'd brushed off as being a figment of his overactive paranoia.

"Bring him."

A heavy bandanna was fitted over his eyes and then, without warning, the quarrel was ripped mercilessly from his leg. Sam screamed and sagged in the arms of his captors as blackness from the inside flowed out to match the blackness around him.

The last thought he had before falling under was of Dean and how he was going to feel finding out Sam had been kidnapped, again.

Really, it shouldn't have ended the way it did.

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Dean was having a GREAT time.

After spending a day at Disneyworld, and don't think he wasn't getting Sam back for the "Small World" thing, he'd gone to a local bar and cheerfully cleaned up at pool. He no longer had to hustle for money meaning he could now do it for fun and enjoy it a lot more.

Having the guys he scammed come after him after was a bonus.

Tobius showed up shortly after he'd started and took a seat near the back. Dean briefly worried about Sam being alone but the kid _was_ seventeen, and a werewolf, and more than capable of taking care of himself. Also, it wasn't like they were all that far away.

Once he'd cleaned up at the pool tables and intimidated the patrons into backing off he sat at the bar and began chatting up a rather cute redhead he'd been eyeing across the bar during the evening.

All in all things were going fantastically well.

Being a Winchester this should have tipped him off immediately. Things never went fantastically well, at least not for long.

He was just getting into the part where he suggested they go somewhere more private when the atmosphere just changed. Dean frowned, breaking off from talking to the woman without a word and glancing back to where Tobius had straightened in his chair and had an intent look on his face.

It was almost as if something was taking a deep breathing, drawing in the air and noise around them and holding it.

Waiting.

_DEAN!!!!!_

He was too far for actual communication but the word came through anyway in the form of fear, pain, and despair.

Dean was moving before he was consciously aware of it, out the door and changed before it even occurred to him to wonder if he'd waited till he was out of sight. Beside him he felt a presence that his mind vaguely identified as Tobius but he ignored it.

_Sam! Sammy!!_

There was no answer and Dean had never been THAT far in the first place and was definitely in range now but still a heavy silence held reign in his mind.

A deep heavy throbbing pain was pulsing through his body and he knew it wasn't his, knew it even before the sharp tang of blood hit his nostrils.

He burst into the room and within seconds was out the shattered back window and into the alleyway beyond.

The empty alleyway.

A shadow loomed over his shoulder but Dean didn't even blink as Tobius appeared next to him.

_Anything?_

_No._

Wordlessly the two moved as one until they caught the scent of blood and pain and fear and as one unit they moved to track it.

Behind them they left their car, belongings and the memories of what had originally been a fantastic day.

It shouldn't have ended that way.

But it did.


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't in pain anymore when he woke up and that fact alone scared him.

He'd been shot in the leg with silver, burned his hands, torn up his feet on rock and gravel, been cut by glass, even with super powers of healing he should be feeling it.

But he didn't.

How long had been kept out?

Keeping his eyes closed, Sam took stock of his surroundings. He was sprawled on his back still wearing the same sweats and t-shirt he'd had on in the motel and a quick mental inventory showed that, indeed, he appeared uninjured.

He could hear nothing around him and a quick mental call resulted in no response. Wherever he was Dean and Tobius couldn't hear him.

Carefully, Sam opened his eyes and almost panicked at the blackness that met them. Then a faint light filtered in and he realized he was not in fact blind but simply in a dark room.

Way to go Winchester.

He shifted to roll over and get up and immediately felt the shift of metal sliding slightly around his throat. Reaching up he found a slim metal ring, smooth and unadorned, wrapping around his throat. In the very back he could feel a slight indentation where a key might fit and he frowned at why it had been put on him. It wasn't silver and anyone who saw it might think it simply a slightly odd fashion statement, a choker or other piece of jewelry.

Deciding he had more pressing things to worry about Sam rolled over and pushed to his knees. Idly he reached down to his calf and quickly found the hole in the material as well as the crusted blood around it. A quick search through showed no hole and a small tendril of worry wormed through him again as he wondered how long he'd been out.

Beneath him the floor was metal and a quick search with his hands revealed the walls and ceiling were as well. The only break in the small room, cell; was that tiny sliver of light ringing what looked like the edges of a rather small door and he moved his hand out slowly to touch it. Instead of feeling wood or more metal he was startled to feel a thick, heavy almost rubber-like material in the form of a heavy flap covering the door. At the back of his mind recognition niggled but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was this was all reminded him of.

Knowing that sitting in the dark for the rest of his life was bound to be insanely boring he moved forward and pushed past the flap into the area beyond. The door was so small he was forced to crouch and practically crawl through and, as he did, bright, artificial lighting struck his eyes forcing him to cover them until they were able to adjust.

When they did, and he was able to open them again, he wished he hadn't.

He'd come out into a small cage that, at a glance, he could see possessed silver bars. A small concrete floor was the only area to sit in and as he curled up in it, avoiding the bars, he could see a small aisle outside the cage. To either side and across that aisle were other cages, side by side, running the entire length of the room.

And inside those cages were creatures. Sam was surprised at the silence as he stared in horror at chubacabras and vampires, wendigos and at least two non-lunars and the fact that they were in full out wolf mode told him not only was it night but it was a full moon outside.

The last time he'd been awake, at the motel, the next full moon had still been several weeks away.

Most of the creatures appeared drugged and listless and he could see at a glance they were all wearing the same collar he had on.

Collar…

Recognition hit Sam so hard he physically jerked back and very nearly bumped into one the bars of the cage.

Collar, they'd put a collar on him. A cage, rubber flap for a door.

The bastards had put him in a pound. And they hadn't just put him in any pound but one for the supernatural.

Whoever these people were they knew exactly what they were doing.

And that could only mean one thing.

He was royally and utterly screwed.

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Dean snarled something unintelligible as his arm swept across a table clearing it of everything on it.

Across the room Tobius simply sat and watched. He was every bit as frustrated as Dean though not quite so quick to show it.

It had been three weeks.

Three weeks since he'd seen his young grandson.

Three weeks since they'd both made the biggest mistake anyone could possibly make.

They'd assumed they knew what was going on.

Sam being kidnapped or attacked was nothing new, sadly; and even though they had smelled humans they had both known someone else had to have been there. The sloppiness that the two showed in covering their tracks, or not as the case was, showed they weren't hunters and yet Sam had run from them. Not only had he run from them but he'd actually been taken down by two normal humans. In no world was there any way that a werewolf, especially one as trained as Sam, would run from an average human and there was certainly no way one could get the drop on him.

That left one explanation.

Vampire.

And if there were vampires in the area it meant Gordon Walker.

Or so they'd assumed.

They'd expected a trap.

They'd expected he'd want them all.

They expected Sam to be there when they finished tracking.

They'd been wrong.

The scent of blood had taken them several days to track as it vanished into the woods surrounding the town and meandered through until finally stopping at a small cabin deep in the mountains. The two wolves had crept in expecting to find a wall of vampires, a gloating Gordon Walker, and an injured Sam. That he couldn't reach the teen even that close had been something Dean had pushed out of his head as evidence Sam was simply unconscious.

So they'd gone in and the only thing they'd found was a bloody quarrel, a shirt that did not belong to Sam but was drenched in his blood and two very shocked looking humans.

The men were wannabe hunters. They knew just enough to think they were awesome but not enough to go on any substantial hunts without getting killed. So when a man, human they'd insisted, had shown up and asked for their help on a werewolf hunt they'd readily agreed. They hadn't even bothered to check for sure that Sam was a werewolf, for all they knew he'd just been an innocent kid that they'd helped some psycho kidnap.

They had been shocked someone so cool would even want to work with them.

Tobius was not.

The men were meaningless, decoys existing for no other reason than to throw them off the scent. They'd been sent in with a group of vampires for no other reason than to give them something to track and then had been given Sam's shirt and told to go to the cabin and wait for further instructions.

Instructions that Tobius had no doubt would never come.

They'd forced the men to tell them exactly what happened and while Dean was certainly not pleased with hearing Sam had been shot through the leg he was at least relieved it hadn't been the heart.

If the man had shot him in the leg it meant he wanted him alive and that meant they still had a chance to find him.

Even though the two men couldn't give them anything more than a vague description of the man who'd hired them, and paid them in cash. They didn't even know his name.

So Dean and Tobius had left and returned back to the motel because it was the only place they knew to go and they waited.

Because even though it hadn't turned out to be Walker surely it still had something to do with all of them. Who bothers with just one werewolf out of a pack of three? As far as they could tell the man didn't seem to have known Sam, the two men hadn't recalled the man ever using Sam's name or behaving as though he personally knew him.

So they waited for the call.

And it never came.

As another loud crash sounded in the room Tobius got up and calmly grabbed Dean's arm. The young man whirled on him, snarling and already allowing his ears to slide back, eyes glowing with a savage light.

Tobius locked eyes with him and merely let out a low, deep growl of his own. For several long minutes the two men stayed locked in the strange staring contest until, finally, Dean broke eye contact and looked down. His body seemed to deflate and Tobius released him as Dean sagged into a nearby chair.

"What are we going to do?"

Tobius knelt next to him and quietly put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to find him."

Dean gave a bitter laugh and looked sideways at him, "we don't even know where to look."

Tobius shrugged, "he's a hunter or at least he has connections to hunting. He knew what Sam was, knew how to catch him and also knew how to get us off the trail. I've already got people searching, passing around the description. At the very least if they don't directly find him word will get back to him that we're after him."

Dean frowned, "why does that matter?"

Tobius grinned and there was nothing friendly about it, "because when he finds out he's being hunted he'll come after us or he'll send some of his friends."

Dean straightened up, "and when that happens…"

"they'll tell us where Sam is," Tobius replied and there was no doubt in his voice as to the truth of his own words.

They would find Sam.

And when they did there would be hell to pay for whoever dared take him.

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_**Author's Note: thank you so much for the reviews! I was worried since it was my first fic AND was in someone else's Universe but I'm so happy you liked it! Chapter One and then this Chapter are both kind of set up chapters so not a whole lot happens but that's all taken care of now so next chapter we find out what's going on with Sam! Thank you again for the great reviews, I was very nervous about posting and they were a great confidence booster!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Sam sat in the center of the cell without moving until morning. The only way he even knew it was morning was when the two non-lunars changed back. There were no windows in the building that he could see and no sign of light edged the closed doors he could barely make out at the ends of the hall. He had never been claustrophobic but he now found himself slightly surprised at just how badly he missed the outdoors.

Dean had talked about similar feelings once or twice, tried to get Sam to understand but he hadn't really gotten it.

Until now.

There was a sudden noise at the end of the hall and the metal door opened with a loud screech of tortured metal. Sam clenched his teeth as his amplified hearing made the sound all that much worse and saw several of the other creatures doing the same thing. Footsteps sounded and he saw a small, thin man pushing a cart loaded down with bowls. From them came a truly noxious odor and Sam watched in horror as the man began shoving the bowls through slots in the front of the cages.

They were being fed.

"Hey!" Scrambling forward as close as he dared to the cage door he watched as the man continued his rounds.

"Hey! Who are you and what the heck is going on? Why am I here?"

Kind of a stupid question, all things considered, but he asked anyway. At the end the man ignored him and continued his rounds. Sam continued to shout but through it all the man never even looked his way. Around him the other cage occupants began dragging themselves forward to eat and Sam could see clearly they were indeed drugged, though oddly the creatures were now making slight noises and moving a bit better as though the drug was wearing off. Maybe it was in the food, he reasoned, and they were about to get a new dose. Across the way he saw the two non-lunars greedily scraping the bowls as though they were little more than animals and his stomach clenched at the sight.

Nobody and nothing deserved to be treated that way.

A shadow fell across his cage and he looked up as the man with the cart calmly passed him right by.

"Hey, what about me?"

He had no intention of actually eating the food but had the thought that just maybe he could use the bowl for something or grab the man's hand or…something. Again he was ignored and a few moments later the man was exiting through the opposite end of the hallway and nothing was left but Sam and his companions. Looking back at the non-lunars, the only other humans more or less in the place, Sam tried talking to them.

"Can you guys tell me what's going on?"

One of them shot him a look, snarling, and Sam's eyes widened at the empty, feral gaze. It was almost as though the women were still wolfed out and out of her mind. There was nothing of her humanity, nothing that could comprehend anything outside of the guidance of her most basic instincts. A glance at the man showed the same and Sam seriously doubted the drugs alone could have done that to them. It was as though someone or something had reached in and burned away everything but the wolf and then drugged whatever was left.

There was movement from the other end of the aisle and Sam tensed as the same man from the night before walked in. He was flanked on either side by two young men. Both were similarly dressed to the first man with dark pants, military style black calf boots, black shirt and long black coats. The only thing that set them apart was the silver flash of a collar at their throats. Staring at them Sam saw both looked straight ahead as though seeing nothing and moved in tandem as though programmed. A deepening sense of dread was starting to take up permanent residence inside his gut and it was with some genuine fear that Sam focused back on the man as he knelt in front of the cage.

"Hello Shadow."

Sam frowned, "what?"

"Your name," came the calm response, "I've decided it's Shadow. My name is Tyler but you will call me Sir."

"My name is Sam," Sam snapped back, "and I'll call you whatever I want!"

Tyler didn't respond but continued as though Sam hadn't spoken.

"You will be given the rules once and once only. Failure to obey will result in swift punishment, is that understood?"

"Why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?" Sam moved forward in anger and just barely managed to remember the silver bars and stop himself.

"What do you think is going on?"

"If I knew," Sam snarled, "I wouldn't be asking would I? What do you want with me or anything else in here? Why are you doing this?"  
"Family business," came the calm response, "thanks to the family name I've managed to build up a very solid, and discerning, clientele."

"Clientele?" Sam looked at him blankly, "you kidnap supernaturals and sell them?"

"To the highest bidder," Tyler replied in that same infuriatingly calm voice, "but not until I've trained them of course. I do have a reputation to uphold and I'm very selective in what I choose to take on and train. It's the reason I don't bother with the older ones anymore, they're time consuming and unreliable. You never know when the bastards are going to turn on their owner and dead clients don't exactly make for a lot of return business. But young ones, newly turned or, in your case; young _and_ newly turned…you usually train quite well."

Sam stared at him in horror, "train for what?"

A shrug, "whatever the client wants you for. If you're lucky you'll end up with someone who just wants the novelty of a werewolf in their basement, maybe a guard dog. "  
"And if I'm not lucky?"

Tyler shrugged, "I have a few clients who like to play games, make bets. They usually come and buy straight off the rack so to speak, saves me the waste of training them."

Sam stared at him askance, "you sell them to fight? Or as…some kind of freaking trophy?"

Tyler cocked his head mildly and studied him for a minute before suddenly chuckling.

"You're one of them."  
"One of what?"

Tyler leaned closer, "you think you're _special_, that you're somehow of higher quality because you can change into an animal."

"I'm not an animal," Sam growled only to have the Tyler raise an eyebrow.

"No?" He stood up and looked down on him, "I suppose you just play one on TV then."

He snorted at his own joke and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. Reaching down he unlocked the door to Sam's cage, pulled it open and then stepped back.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Sam hesitated, drawing back slightly into the depths of the too shallow cage. He wasn't stupid and knew the man had zero intentions of letting him escape meaning there was no way it would be as simple as getting out.

Tyler grinned and turned to one of the men who calmly handed him a long stick that Sam hadn't even noticed him holding.

"I do so enjoy the difficult ones."

Reaching in, the man jabbed the stick at him and Sam jerked back at the searing pain that lanced through him from just a brief graze.

It was a silver cattle prod.

Scrambling backwards he hit the rubber of the door leading into the other room only to find there was now a thin metal door, silver naturally, behind it blocking him off from the other room. Tyler didn't appear to be holding anything other than the cattle prod and Sam realized he must have closed the door from somewhere else before he even came in.

Another jolt and the resulting pain actually drove him into the bars and then back to the middle of the cage where he curled up with a sound that was most definitely NOT a whimper.

He knew cattle prods hurt, and silver, but really how the heck was it hurting THAT much?

Almost as though reading his mind Tyler lifted the prod and waved it at him lazily.

"Want to know an interesting fact? Silver conducts far better than any other metal, copper included. Sucks for you doesn't it?"

Sam glared at him and something in him snapped. A blind rage overcame him and he lunged a the man through the door of the cage, his body already in the process of changing as he moved.

At least it was before blinding pain worse than anything he'd felt, and he'd felt a lot, ripped through his throat and he fell to the floor screaming and writhing in agony both hands clutching desperately at the collar around his throat. As though to spite him the thing clenched tighter and now he could feel the small spikes slicing into his neck and simultaneously threatening to cut off both his air supply and his head at the same time.

A booted foot casually pushed him over on his back and then placed itself squarely on his chest. Over him Tyler bounced the cattle prod on one shoulder as his two mannequins stood quietly behind him.

"As I said, you get the rules once. Disobey and you will be punished."

Sam gagged, fingers still weakly grasping at the collar and fighting the instinctive change he could still feel going on. He knew if he did in fact change the stupid thing would kill him immediately.

Tyler reached in a pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small device that looked for all the world like a remote control. He thumbed a switch on it and immediately the needles vanished back into the collar.

"Learned that trick from Gordon Walker," Tyler mused, "adapted it. His only worked on werewolves, I wanted something to control all my creatures. Finally found an 'expert' you could say on the dark arts who helped me with a few finer points and voila, a collar that reacts to any attack directed toward me. The more you try the worse it gets until finally, if you're stupid enough, it'll cut your head off partway."

Partway? Sam stopped struggling and looked at the man blankly only to receive a look back suggesting his IQ was in question.

"I don't make a habit of killing my investments and I certainly have no intentions of letting you go so easily. Most of you things tend to heal remarkably quickly and are extremely hard to kill. Getting partly decapitated once I find is more than enough to convince most of you that attacking me isn't the best idea."

He leaned forward on his knee, the increased pressure causing Sam to automatically grab his foot to try and relieve it. As he did he felt the sharp prick on his neck and let go cursing the man as he did. Tyler simply grinned.

"You learn quick. That is rule one – I am the Master and you will do as I say or be punished. Rule Two is all escape attempts will fail and will be punished. Rule Three is you will only change when I give you permission to do so and at no other time. Is that understood?"

"Go to hell," Sam snarled in response.

Tyler stepped back, lifting his foot and then lowered the cattle prod and placed it squarely against Sam's thigh.

Blinding, white hot pain lanced through him and Sam felt his entire body arch off the floor in response. It seemed to last forever and when it was finally over Sam was curled in a fetal position on the floor his breathing coming in harsh ragged gasps.

Arms grabbed him and dragged him up to hang limply between the two with Tyler.

Movement in front of him mirrored the night he'd been capture as Tyler stepped in front of him once again.

"Let's see how well you fight shall we?"

He didn't seem to be expecting a response as he turned and walked out and Sam groaned as the two with him dragged him after. As they did Sam vaguely noticed the cage next to his own and the large Wendigo in it. He'd been aware of it the night before but hadn't paid it much mind as it, along with everything else, had been drugged and mostly out of it. Now, however, he frowned at the intense look it seemed to be giving him. The look was the total opposite of what was in the feral non-lunars and also what should be the complete opposite of a Wendigo. He barely had a chance to think about it though before he was dragged through the door and then he forgot about it all together as it quickly became the last thing on his mind.

And survival became the first.

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_Dean!_

_Dean!_

_Dean jerked around and looked across the street to where Sam stood waving frantically at him. As he watched the kid started to walk forward across the street and Dean felt immediate panic. Sam was only eight and was easily distracted, he wasn't allowed to cross the street and knew it._

_Sam! Wait Sam!_

_He started forward but Sam was already in the middle of the street as Dean yelled he stopped and looked but it wasn't at his brother._

_It was at the pickup truck barreling straight toward him._

_SAM!!!!!_

_Sam turned to him and the look on his face was bewildered, hurt as though it was somehow Dean's fault that he'd wound up there in the first place._

_As though Dean had wanted him there._

_And then the truck struck him and his body was flying through the air like some sick version of a broken puppet and the image would be forever burned in Dean's brain as he saw his brother's body hit the ground and roll for what seemed like hours before finally coming to a stop. _

_SAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Screaming so loud it was a wonder he didn't wake the dead, Dean came awake in full panic mode even as hands grabbed him and tried to grab him down. He lashed outward, striking at whatever it was holding him and soon found himself pinned bodily on the bed.

"Calm DOWN Dean, now!"

Instinctively, something deep within recognized the command of the Alpha and Dean found himself calming almost against his will.

Tobius released him and Dean slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"He's not dead."

"No," Tobius agreed, "you would know if he was, so would I for that matter."

Dean nodded and ran a hand over his face feeling the beginnings of a beard forming. He didn't have to look in a mirror to know he looked like crap. He'd stopped taking care of himself in virtually every way possible and sleep evaded him as nightmares woke him up regularly. Tobius had already given him the "you're not doing Sam any good" speech and Dean was _trying_, he really was.

But he'd failed. He'd failed to protect Sam, failed to protect his _son_ not only when he was kidnapped but now to as he repeatedly hit brick walls in every attempt to find him. It was as though something had reached down and simply scooped him up and left.

He couldn't _find him_.

And it was all his fault.

He was beginning to understand, just a little, what John had gone through in the early days after Mary had died.

It didn't mean he liked the man any more but he understood, just a bit.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Dean found himself hanging his head and leaning toward the other man.

"I don't know what to do."

Tobius sighed and then carefully maneuvered him back to a prone position on the bed, pulling the covers back up and over him.

"We're going to find him Dean."

He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder for a brief instance and then stood and walked back to his own bed in the small hotel room. They'd stopped staying at the more expensive hotels because they had better security and they wanted to be attacked, wanted the people who took Sam to come after them.

So far they hadn't.

Tobius settled down in his own bed and Dean found himself focusing on the man, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he dropped back into his own uneasy sleep.

He wasn't alone.

Sometimes he forgot that.

The nightmare he'd had wasn't all just made up. It was from an actual memory and in that instance there had been another man there, one who'd lunged forward and shoved his brother out of the way. The nightmares of what could have been had haunted him for a very long time.

Had they been alive Sam would have died.

Because they weren't Sam had lived.

Tobius was with him and he was bringing in every resource he had.

So they weren't alone this time either.

Maybe it would be enough.

Maybe they would be able to fill in where he constantly failed.

And maybe Sam would be okay.

Dean shifted to a somewhat more comfortable position but didn't stop watching Tobius.

He'd never before realized how terrifying a word maybe was.


End file.
